


It's Not Over

by asiriuswriter



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom, DCU (Comics), Evanstan - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sebastian Stan - Fandom, Stucky - Fandom, The Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-06 20:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asiriuswriter/pseuds/asiriuswriter
Summary: The Avengers franchise has come to an abrupt end with Endgame. The actors are struggling to get back to their lives after so much time dedicated to this epic cinematic adventure. For two popular actors, its easier said than done. Their lives have been forever changed, and as they endure interviews and other offers, they find it hard to get back on track. It can't be over. Not for Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan. It's not yet time to let go.





	1. Chapter 1

His clenched fist hovered absently over the sleek, black keyboard of his MacBook. The bright glow of his screen was all he could see in the otherwise pitch, dark living room. 

Sebastian Stan filled the screen in an interview with a thin blonde woman who was the exact type to push with question after question. 

"Ha, yeah," Sebastian said lazily. "Its been um, quite... quite a busy time now. I think we've all been just taking it in, you know? Been a long time. My manager, too, she told me to just take it easy for a while, so we've all just been... been trying to do that."

"Oh, I can imagine. Finally have your life back after how many years? Eight? Nine? Your whole life must be different, huh?"

"Ten for me, yeah, if you can believe it. Yeah, ten whole years. But really, it didn't change too much until Infinity War, really. That's when I started getting some... some strange fans."

The blonde feigned intrigued and Sebastian went on to talk about a woman who tattooed his face on her stomach and made him touch it for blessings for the child in her womb. He'd heard that story before.

Chris scrunched his nose. They were always doing that, interviewers. Confusing the timeline of just how long they'd worked on the Avengers franchise. Or maybe they were doing it on purpose, a way to remind them of how long they'd spent on this and just how much they'd lost when it ended. It used to drive him crazy, but then he realized there were more important things to think about. 

On the corner of his screen, a news notification flashed.

'PRO-LIFE REPUBLICAN JAMES...'  His index extended over the mouse track, but the woman was speaking again and the notification disappeared.

"So how far in advance did you know what was going to be filmed?"

"Well," Sebastian began. Chris sat back in his recliner, pulling his laptop closer. "Not very far in advance. It was like... the day of, kind of thing. I had a basic idea, you know? We did read throughs and such, but it was very... um... the Russo brothers, they kept everything under wraps. I had just minimal shoot days for this film.”

"And what about for your co-stars? Captain America himself?"

There was a brief tick in Sebastian's temple and Chris’s hand to touch his own. He could feel the pulse there, pounding beneath his skin. His blue, blue vein beat against his fingertips. 

"Yeah, I honestly am not sure. I gotta keep these things lock and key, you know," he teased, but Chris could see something in his eyes. Even through the screen, he could practically feel the blonde trying to press his co-star for more information. Information that they both knew Sebastian didn’t possess. 

The Russo brothers had made sure of that. 

Chris inhaled deeply, his blue, blue eyes sliding shut momentarily. 

“So, do you think Chris knew what Captain America’s fate would be at the end?” she asked.

“I think you'd have to ask Chris that,” Sebastian said, light-hearted but exhausted. It was apparent that Sebastian was as tired of this question as Chris was. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the time Anthony Mackie and I went to Canada…?”

Chris closed the laptop. 

Darkness penetrated every inch of his living space. There were no windows in here and it took a few moments for his eyes adjust to the tiny, sliver of light squeezing through the space at the bottom of the door. 

Dodger whimpered outside of the room. 

“Coming, buddy,” he muttered. He set his laptop down and walked blindly to the door with a deep breath. 

______________________________

His eyes shot open. 

A loud thump exploded through his house. Chris sat straight up. His soft, flannel blanket fell from his bare chest and he strained his ears. 

Crack.

“Oh my god,” he breathed. “Holy shit!” 

Why wasn’t his security system going off? Had it been tripped? He reached for his cell phone, unplugged it, and tip toed to the bathroom. Very, very quietly, Chris closed the door behind him and turned the lock. He took a seat on the cold, tiled floor.

When he opened the home security app on his phone, a dark screen appeared with a white, rotating circle. 

APPLICATION UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE CONTACT CUSTOMER SERVICE FOR HELP.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Shit. Okay, okay.”

Chris fell silent again, listening as hard as he could for any signs of a single sound, but there was nothing. 

Dodger.

Fuck! Where was his dog? 

The last thing he remembered was Dodger curling up in the basement on his favorite spot on the couch with his Red Sox blanket. He’d felt bad disturbing him, so he left his precious pup down there. If there was an intruder….

Chris rose to his feet and crept to the window, peering out. It was a dark night, and though he was no fan of batman, it made him feel… a strange sense of relief. Nothing out of the ordinary. Streetlights lined either side of the street, illuminating his neighborhood in a soft, white glow. He couldn’t see much else. His neighbors lived the same sort of rich lifestyle he’d always detested. Did that make him a hypocrite? High fences and gates with dark bushes disguised houses that were set far back from the street. Even so, he could see no unusual activity. No unfamiliar cars. 

Maybe Dodger had knocked something over, causing the crash.

Yeah, that had to be it.

Chris gripped his iPhone in his left hand and slowly opened his bathroom door. Each step he took over his plush carpet was careful and as silent as he could manage. He reached the door and closed his eyes. 

Three… two… one…

He yanked the door open, emitting a soft creak. It might as well have been firecrackers going off in his otherwise silent house. Chris’s heart jumped to his throat. It pounded against his Adam’s apple. His stomach twisted unforgivingly. He looked both ways down the halls. The doors were all closed. He inched his way to the stairs and peered over the balcony. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No unusual sounds. The refrigerator hummed in the kitchen downstairs. The hum of the air conditioning blew cold air through his oversized home. That was it. That was all he could hear over the pounding of his heart.

Chris took tentative step after tentative step down the stairs to the main floor. It was belatedly that he wished he’d brought a bat with him. He kept one on display upstairs, one he’d gotten from an opening night at the Red Sox a few years ago. It was precious to him, but so was his life.

Bare feet hit hardwood floor and he peered quietly around, his shoulders tight with anxiety. The sound, it had been so close, but now, now it was hard to remember exactly what it sounded like. 

It could have been a car crash a street over. Maybe a car backfired. Maybe someone had been lighting off fireworks. Could have even been some sort of gunshot in a nearby neighborhood. That wasn’t something that was totally unheard of; but he’d been so goddamn certain it had been inside the house. 

Chris flipped on the kitchen lights and sighed, scratching at his head. His shoulders relaxed. 

The sound of Dodger broke into his thoughts and Chris hurried over to open the basement door, letting his pup into the room. 

“Hey boy. What’s going on?” he asked, kneeling down to scratch him behind the ears. Dodger was on edge, his fur sticking up like a mohawk from his neck to his hind legs. Chris squinted, his eyes following the line of Dodger’s gaze. On the floor in the adjacent room was an open laptop.

His laptop.

On the screen was Sebastian Stan’s face, glowing in the center of the dark room. He slowly stood tall and took silent steps towards the laptop. Chris glanced around, but no one was there. He knelt over and tapped on the mouse track, pressing play.

Sebastian’s laugh exploded through the room. 

“Yeah, Mackie totally one upped me there,” he said lazily. Chris slammed the laptop shut. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Holy shit! It’s Chris Hemsworth’s house!” 

“Oh my fucking god, man, it’s Chris _Evans_ , not Chris Hemsworth. Shut up.”

“Whatever, it’s the dude from that super hero movie, right?”

The cops were total rookies. He could hear every word from his speaker system as they stood at his door, him directly on the other side unbeknownst to them. Mysteriously, his security system was up and running again, just as dawn light crept in. He debated not answering the door, letting them think it was a prank call or a mistake. This whole thing was weird and, quite frankly, embarrassing.

Instead, Chris plastered on a fake smile and slowly opened the door, revealing inch by inch one short cop who looked about fifteen and another who was super tall but had a baby face. He figured it was better to put his mind at ease than pretend nothing happened.

“Hello officers,” he said, opening his door to allow them in. Neither of them said anything as they walked into his house. The small one was looking around with amazement. His eyes lit up like a kid in a goddamn candy shop. Chris closed the door and Dodger came running. The tall one bent over to pat his head.

“Hello Mr. Evans. We’re told you’ve had a security breach?” he asked, whipping out a small notepad.

“Uh, yeah. I think so. Is there any way we can keep this on the down low? I’d rather this not be in the tabloids or anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” the tall one reassured. Chris breathed a sigh of relief. Tension dripped off of him and he felt instantly better, like the lead in his stomach absorbed into his gut. He gestured for them to take a seat. 

“So, tell us what happened?” 

The small one had a massive, shit-eating grin on his face and Chris could tell he was just dying to ask questions about what it was like to be a movie star. These were the moments he’d wished he had stuck to indie films, but here he was. Captain America. Chris pursed his lips and nodded at him.

“I was asleep upstairs and heard a loud, like I’m talking really loud, bang followed by a crash. I tried checking my security cameras,” he said, holding up his phone, which showed a live video them in a grainy, black and white image on the couch, then indicated to a camera in the corner of the room. The tall officer waved at it. “But the app was down. I looked outside, didn’t see anything, so I came downstairs.”

“You didn’t call the police at that point?” the small one asked. The tall one was busy taking notes.

“No, I wasn’t sure if the sound had been inside or maybe… a neighbor or something.” In hindsight, maybe he _should_ have called the police as soon as it had happened. Maybe they’d have arrived before the culprit left. The officers nodded like this was perfectly reasonable, so he continued.

“So, yeah, I came downstairs. Dodger, my dog, started growling and I noticed my laptop was open on the floor in my living room,” he continued. “I had left it on the table before bed, so I don’t really know how it got there. But it was open to a video I’d been watching earlier.”

“What was the video?” 

Chris froze. Warmth flooded his face and he could feel his ears turning red in embarrassment. 

“Oh, just some YouTube video. Jenna Marbles or something,” he said, pretending to be bashful. The officers smiled and one chuckled like _‘wow, celebrities are real people, too._ ’ “So, yeah. That was it. I don’t really know if there’s anything you can do? I don’t think anything is missing.”

“Well, we can have a look into your security system. Just because the app was down doesn’t mean it didn’t pick up on anything. It may take a couple weeks to come back, but we will send it to priority to our tech guys. We’d just need access to it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you need,” Chris said. The feeling that someone may have come into his house in the middle of the night was unsettling, to say the least. 

“For now, we recommend changing your security system. We’ll have an officer patrolling the area for the next week or so as well,” the short one said.

“Thanks. Yeah, I appreciate that,” Chris replied. _The perks of being rich._ It almost made him sick, but here he was, benefitting from it. Guilt sat in his stomach, heavy like cement.

The officers took a look around, gave Dodger a treat, reassured Chris things would be alright, and took information for his security system before leaving. 

He didn’t get another ounce of sleep that night.

_________________________________

** SECURITY BREACH IN ACTOR, CHRIS EVANS’ LOS ANGELOS HOME **

Sebastian stopped in his tracks and picked up the tabloid from the kiosk at the airport. 

“How much is this?”

“$5.99 plus tax.” He looked up at the bored cashier, a girl with long braids that hardly glanced up from her phone as she sat, cross legged behind the counter. There was no one here, the hour still unreasonably early. His New York to LA flight was delayed by a half an hour, but he’d still land early, California time. 

He dug a few bills from his pocket and she rang him out. 

Sebastian rolled up the magazine, grabbed his bag, and continued on his way to his gate.

When he was younger, he always imagined that first class would be far more glamorous than it was in reality. For one, on this particular airline, it was just slightly larger seats than in economy. For another, they _always_ made first class passengers board first. For average people, this was a perk to waiting around in long lines. For Sebastian, it was a nightmare because _every_ , single person that boarded after him got a good look at his face, disgruntled that his rich ass was so much more worthy of boarding early than theirs. He’d taken to wearing sunglasses and staring out the window during this process after a group of nerdy college guys recognized him a few months back and made quite a display of re-enacting an entire scene from Infinity War, much to everyone's dismay. It had delayed the flight. He'd had to take several photos with them, which wound up all over the internet.

Today, as Sebastian settled in and opened the magazine, it was an air steward that recognized him.

“Winter soldier,” he whispered. Sebastian glanced up at the smiling, round face of a man with dark, glistening eyes. He managed a smile and nodded, hoping that would be the end of it. “You need anything, you let me know.” 

“Thank you. That won’t be necessary,” Sebastian replied. He gave his best smile before looking back at his magazine.

_ Actor Chris Evans’ multi-million dollar Los Angelos based home was broken into last night in a very peculiar manner. According to the LAPD, nothing was stolen, but an eerie sound woke the actor in the middle of the night. When Evans investigated, he discovered a strange message. His laptop was propped open with YouTube star, Jenna Marbles’ video playing.  _

_ ‘My dog was growling and that's when I noticed my laptop was open with a video I'd been watching earlier. I'd left it on the table before bed, so I don't know how it got there. I don’t think anything was stolen,’ the actor told the LAPD. Even more bizarre, Evans’ security system was mysteriously not in working order during the event. The police are working diligently to retrieve video evidence of what may have transpired.  _

_ Anyone with information is asked to call the LAPD. _

Sebastian’s brows pinched as he scanned obscured photos of Chris’s home. He took out his phone and stared at Chris’s name in his contact list, debating if he ought to send him a text to see if everything was okay. The last text he'd sent him was two weeks ago. A simple 'okay' after Chris told him he'd see him at a combined interview with Jimmy Fallon. It was possible this story was exaggerated or mistaken. Sebastian had been victim to that a time or two himself. Tabloids were notorious for making things up just to get more sales. He wasn’t even sure if Chris _liked_ Jenna Marbles.

**SEBASTIAN —- > ANTHONY MACKIE**: You see Chris’s house got broken into?  
**ANTHONY — > SEBASTIAN**: Which Chris? Chris Evans? Chris Pratt? Chris Hemsworth? Chris Rock? Chris Pine? Chris Brown? Chris Wood? Chris Colfer? Chris Martin? Chris Hogan?

He wasn’t sure why Anthony had to go through the list of every famous Chris when they’d only worked with three, but whatever.

**SEBASTIAN — > ANTHONY:** Evans.  
**ANTHONY —- > SEBASTIAN**: Ohhhh shit. I hope they didn’t feed Dodger laxatives.

Sebastian stared at his phone for a moment, re-reading the text. English wasn’t his first language, but he was pretty sure he had understood what Anthony was saying.

**SEBASTIAN — > ANTHONY:** I hope they didn’t either.

The pilot came on the loudspeaker as the plane left the gate, going over basic protocol. It was time to switch his phone to airplane mode. He tucked it into his bag, relaxed back in his seat, and looked out the window. 

He had so many questions. 


	3. Chapter 3

**TWEET** ; 9:09AM  
@ChrisEvans: If I were a Disney prince, I'd make sure my girl didn't fall for me after a one word conversation #feminism #realtalk

Chris leaned over his marble counter, his phone in his right hand and his left holding down his bullet. Green, leafy vegetables blended with a mixture of avocado, banana, and melon. He thumbed through Twitter, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

Dodger sat at his feet, waiting patiently for his own breakfast. An eerie feeling crawled down his lower spine. He couldn't quite shake the idea that he was being watched. It had been an invasion of  _privacy._ Someone had entered his home without his content under the strangest intents. Not knowing who they were or what they wanted was the hardest part. To make so much noise, they were either horribly clumsy or they  _wanted_ him to know they'd been there. 

Chris unscrewed the cap of his bullet and took a sip of the bitter-sweet smoothie. He didn't look up from his iPhone as he sipped, setting it down to grab Dodger's food. He absently poured a cup into Dodger's dish then set it on the floor. On his screen was a music video made by a group of high school kids to some Megan Trainer song. He watched with a vague smile on his face.

Distractions helped.

A notification popped up on the top of his phone and he clicked it.

 **ANTHONY MACKIE -- > CHRIS EVANS** (9:12AM):  Is Dodger okay?

Chris glanced down as his dog gobbled mouthful after mouthful of food. He nodded as he texted his reply.

 **CHRIS -- > ANTHONY** (9:12AM): Yep, he's having breakfast. 👍

He continued down his Twitter feed, bypassing a photo of himself and his house before he froze. He slowly inched his way back up. 

 _THE AVENGERS_ ACTOR, CHRIS EVANS, MULTI-MILLION DOLLAR L.A. HOME BROKEN INTO. 

"Fuck," he said aloud. 

_________________________________

"LAPD, how may I direct your call?"

"Hi," Chris said. He had no clue what the rookies names were that had taken care of his case, but judging by the paparazzi outside, they hadn't kept their promise to keep this out of the press. "I um. This is Chris Evans. I had a break in last night and I wanted to talk to the... um. Police Marshall."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line.

"Police Marshall?"

"The highest officer."

"The Colonel?" 

"Yes."

"That's not possible, Mr. Evans. He is not here. I will redirect your call."

Before he could say anything else, there was a jumble of elevator music and Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He let the curtains fall back into place and took a seat on the edge of his recliner, heart hammering against his chest. 

"LAPD, Officer May. How may I help you?" 

"Hey. Hi. This is Chris Evans. I had a case of a break in last night and --"

"Hi, Mr. Evans. We've got your case on file, but we can't speed it up anymore than we already have, there are some really important cases--"

"No, no. I don't need you to speed it up." God, did everyone assume he was just some Hollywood brat? His free hand clenched into a tight fist. "I was told that my case would be kept under wraps and now I have paparazzi outside and articles all over the Internet."

"Oh? Well, I apologize, sir, but unfortunately we cannot control what stories the news gets ahold of."

"That's it then? I didn't want any attention to be brought to this."

"I apologize again," Officer May said slowly. "But sometimes they get ahold of things long before they even fully reach the station. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Chris took a deep breath, gritting his teeth. The vein in his temple pulsed. "No, I guess not," he said.

"Okay. Have a great day. We'll be in touch."

Officer May didn't give him a chance to respond before hanging up.

______________

The plane skidded to a halt at the end of the runway. Sebastian flipped his phone off of airplane mode and held it loosely in his open palm, waiting for it to register he was now on land. 

At once, it buzzed non-stop with alerts.

 **ANTHONY MACKIE** : Dodger's okay!

 **CHRIS PRATT** : [IMAGE ATTACHED - Sebastian & Chris Pratt on set of ENDGAME]  
 **CHRIS PRATT** : Lol look at Anthony Russo in the background.

Sebastian zoomed in on Anthony. The director had a finger in his nose, oblivious anyone could see him. Sebastian chuckled.

 **MOM:** WHERE YOU GO NOW ON PLAN?

His mother had really bad English and was always practicing it with him via text.

There were also 41 new e-mails. He was subscribed to far too many gossip websites. When he first hit stardom, he had a nasty habit of checking on tabloid articles. Honestly, it wasn't good for him, but it was what it was.

On his tray table sat a bag of unopened BBQ chips. He scrunched his nose and pushed them aside. He didn't understand this crazy fascination with flavored chips. Honestly, the false flavoring left a bad taste in his mouth, (literally and figuratively).

After he got off the plane, grabbed his luggage, and found his driver parked outside the terminal, Sebastian opened up his text messages again. Sunglasses concealed his face as the driver zoomed away from the airport.

 **SEBASTIAN-- > ANTHONY**: Good! Did you talk to Chris?

 **SEBASTIAN -- > CHRIS PRATT**: LMAO. You better not share that one!

 **SEBASTIAN -- > MOM**: Los Angelos. Call you later.

 **ANTHONY-- > SEBASTIAN**: Yep!

For a moment, he debated his next move. He didn't want to overthink this. Didn't want to make this more than it was. Because it was nothing. It was nothing.

 **SEBASTIAN -- > CHRIS EVANS**: Hey, saw the news. You good?

His thumb hovered over the send button before he hit it without looking back.

 


End file.
